


Inebriated Comforts

by Thai_Tea_Addict



Category: Hikaru no Go
Genre: Drunk Shindou, Gen, Isumi no Isumi PLEASE, M/M, Waya's existence is Suffering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 23:41:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7734328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thai_Tea_Addict/pseuds/Thai_Tea_Addict
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shindou feels slighted, Isumi's method of support is abysmal, and Waya is a good friend that doesn't deserve all this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inebriated Comforts

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Finally posting something for this event! (^_^;) Although it has no relation to the prompts lol.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Hikaru no Go.

Waya winced as the tumbler hit the bar counter with a loud thud, mildly impressed the bartender seemed to have sensed the atmosphere and just left them to it. As it was, Isumi was placidly refilling Shindou’s glass as the man groaned into the countertop.

 

“It wasn’t that bad,” Waya tried.

 

Shindou shot him a sideways glare, the likes of which would have been more intimidating if those green eyes weren’t shining with unshed tears. God, Shindou always got _so emotional_ when drunk.

 

“He rejected me,” Shindou enunciated carefully, with all the shattered bits of his pride. “He rejected me while at work!”

 

_You cornered him at work,_ Waya thought but wisely didn’t voice aloud. Isumi gave him a look over Shindou’s head, equal parts concerned and strained. Waya thought with some pity that he shouldn’t have dragged the older man along for this, seeing as Isumi had just returned from another trip to China just yesterday and was likely tired. But there was no way Waya would be left alone with a heartbroken Shindou, especially after that traitor Honda refused to pick up Waya’s calls for help.

 

“And did you hear what he said to me?” Shindou continued on, pitch rising into a more pitiful wail.

 

Isumi’s eyes were _screaming_.

 

“Yeah, I think everyone in the Institute heard,” Waya replied. “And everyone in the surrounding buildings.”

 

Hikaru continued without even giving Waya notice, the bastard. “He said that I wasn’t even an option!”

 

“Touya’s an asshole,” Waya agreed with genuine sincerity.

 

Isumi shot him another look. “Now, I don’t think Touya phrased it like that…” he started with far more maturity than his companions. You’d think, as mid-20 somethings, Waya and Shindou would have matured more but Isumi was still reconciling himself with the fact that he was likely the most mature one of the entire Go pro circuit. It was a bitter pill to swallow.

 

“He might as well have!” Shindou cried out scornfully.

 

Waya rolled his eyes. “I say you just move on,” he said. “What’s so good about a jerk like Touya?”

 

“Nothing!” Shindou rallied, draining his shot glass in one swallow. “He’s a stupid idiot with no fashion sense – he has a fucking unlimited supply of argyle sweaters, it’s so ridiculous-“

 

Waya grunted in agreement, pouring himself another glass and doing the same for Isumi on Shindou’s right. “Ridiculous,” he agreed without even really listening.

 

“-and his stupid long hair with his stupid pretty eyes-“

 

Isumi drained his glass, then poured himself another immediately.

 

“-and you know, I never told him this but his last game against Ogata was horrible-“

 

_I_ _think I have to clean the futon tomorrow_ , Waya recalled. Luckily he didn’t have an official game tomorrow so some household chores wouldn’t be a bother.

 

“-and he didn’t even pay for lunch, even though it was his turn, just made some lame excuse that he didn’t want to have ramen for the fifth time in a row-“

 

“Bastard,” Waya threw in supportively, even if he totally understood where Touya was coming from with that one. Isumi signaled the bartender for another sake.

 

“-and his hands aren’t that pretty- Well, I mean, his Go hands are, obviously, but not like, his actual physical hands, you know? They’re average at best, is what I’m trying to say-“

 

Waya nodded, absently starting to text on his phone while Shindou ranted about Touya’s various body parts, loudly claiming they weren’t that great but with obviously increasing doubt, as if they really were just that awesome. For Shindou, they probably were.

 

Isumi, cheeks red – Waya tried to recall, was that his 16th glass of sake? – leaned over and into Shindou’s shoulder with an inebriated smile. “You know, Shindou,” he started slowly, his words impressively non-slurred despite his clear intoxication. “I think you like Touya!”

 

Waya put his face in his hands with a loud sigh.

 

“I- What-“ Shindou blustered, turning even more red – this time from embarrassment rather than alcohol.

 

“I think you _loooove_ Touya,” Isumi continued, laughing lightly as he swayed in his seat.

 

“I-I do not!” Shindou countered hotly. “Just because he’s the most beautiful guy ever doesn’t mean I love him!”

 

Waya groaned (again, into his hands) as Isumi repeated the word ‘love’ about a dozen more times with a teasing tone. “Kill me, please, anyone…” Waya muttered.

 

Hikaru did not heed his wish, hotly argumentative. “What’s on the outside doesn’t matter, it’s the inside! I’m a, an inside man! I care about the-the gooey center! ‘Cause that’s what’s important! The bowels!”

 

“The bowels?” Waya echoed incredulously.

 

“Not his actual bowels, obviously,” _Obviously_. “His, uh, metaphorical bowels!”

 

“You love Touya’s metaphorical bowels!” Isumi interjected before Waya could even begin to work out what was wrong with Shindou’s statement. “And his gargoyle sweaters!”

 

“Argyle,” Waya corrected weakly.

 

“I don’t love Akira’s metaphysical bowels or his gargoyles!” Shindou countered.

 

Waya gave up, pointedly deciding not to mention Shindou’s abrupt switch to first names or his vocabulary mangling.

 

“I wish someone loved my bowels and gargoyles,” Isumi said in a miserable tone.

 

Waya closed his eyes, defeated.

 

“I think your bowels are awesome, Isumi-san!” Shindou added, not one to let a friend wallow in their distress, however imagined it may be.

 

“Thanks, Shindou,” Isumi replied shyly. “I like your bowels too.”

 

Someone cleared their throat behind them. Waya turned and looked upon the visage of his savior with desperate eyes.

 

“Oh, Touya, _thank god_ ,” Waya said, standing and grabbing Shindou by the arm to haul up. “Please, take him away and never deny him anything ever again.”

 

Touya, looking vastly uncomfortable and giving Isumi distrustful glances, took the blond-banged man by the arm despite Shindou’s slurred but incoherent protests. “Sorry about him,” he said to Waya, perfectly polite. “I didn’t realize he was that distraught over it.”

 

“Akiraaaa, you jeeerrrk!” Shindou managed out, managing to wrestle himself out of Touya’s grasp only to wrap his arms around the other pro’s neck sloppily. “Love youuu! And your beautiful gargoyle!”

 

“Argyle,” Waya corrected reflexively. He looked back at Touya. “What’d he ask you, anyway?”

 

“He wanted to get married,” Touya replied after a moment, distractedly trying to keep Shindou upright.

 

“………….but you guys are already married,” Waya said, faintly confused.

 

Touya’s expression was that of a put-upon martyr. “Exactly. He wanted to go back to the US and do it again. I thought he was just joking and snapped at him.”

 

Touya’s expression softened a bit as he looked at his husband, clearly finding Shindou’s ridiculously sincere proposition endearing. They were, as far as Waya was concerned, a deranged but sickeningly-sweet couple.

 

Isumi nearly toppled out of his seat then, arresting both men’s attentions.

 

“Did you need help?” Touya asked as Waya grabbed Isumi by the shoulder.

 

“No, I’ve got him,” Waya said. “You’ve got your hands full anyway.”

 

Shindou was muttering an incoherent stream of words into Touya’s neck. Touya nodded and bid Waya a cordial goodbye, making sure to pay off their tab with the bartender before taking his husband by the arm and leading him out.

___________________________________

 

“It’s called sympathy drinking,” Isumi defended himself the next day, a mug of strong black coffee in hand to nurse his biting hangover. “You drink so you can sympathize better with your friends. I learned it from Yang Hai.”

 

_I’m gonna kill Yang Hai_ , Waya noted to himself. “Well, don’t be surprised if we’re invited to their wedding again in the upcoming months,” he told the older man.

 

Isumi sighed wistfully. “It must be nice, being so in love….”

 

Waya snorted, vividly remembering every screaming match Touya and Shindou had in the Institute. Everyone had eventually learned to just let the Go world’s premiere couple run wild, as their games were too intense to resist and their personalities too fiery to control.

 

“Well, for what it’s worth,” Waya said. “I like your bowels and gargoyles, too.”

 

Isumi’s answering expression would make Waya crack up in laughter for days.

 

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: 
> 
> Me: I can't just write a fic about drunk!Shindou, what kind of plot is that??  
> Also Me: Ok ok...but what if I add drunk!Isumi?  
> Me: ....perfect.


End file.
